Prosperine: The Adventures of the Space Heroine Hickory Lace: Books 1, 2 & 3 (The Prosperine Trilogy)

by PJ McDermott

  The raft looked less sturdy than it had appeared in the moonlight, and they spent part of the morning strapping another layer of driftwood on top before they dragged it to the water’s edge and launched it.

  They stripped off their clothes and boots and stowed them in their packs, then loaded up the raft and set off. The water shelved quickly. Almost immediately, they found themselves out of their depth.

  They swam, pushing the raft in front of them. It proved to be seaworthy and floated high on the surface, but the current felt stronger than Hickory had anticipated, and it tugged them along the channel towards the open sea.

  “Swim with the current but at an angle to the island,” shouted Hickory. “We’re caught in a rip, and we need to conserve our energy. We should get free of it after a couple of hundred feet.”

  The rip was wider than Hickory had thought, and after forty minutes with no relief in sight, she became worried. They had been driven almost level with the tip of the island, and a stiff breeze had sprung up, creating an uncomfortable swell. Barb looked just about spent. I hope there aren’t any sharks on Prosperine. Beneath the waves, she could see shadowy forms of large and small marine life swimming over the seabed below. There didn’t seem to be any sharks.

  Barb screamed when the water erupted a few yards in front of them. A long, slender shape launched into the air, writhing upwards, water streaming from its fluorescent skin. Two butterfly-shaped, translucent fins unfolded from just behind an elongated bottom jaw and propelled the fish fifty feet into the air. The creature’s mouth opened, revealing jagged saw-teeth that snapped around an unsuspecting seabird flying overhead. The creature folded its fins and fell back, creating hardly a ripple as it disappeared below the surface.

  “Jesus,” swore Gareth. “What was that?” His eyes darted around, fearfully.

  The strength returned to Hickory’s legs, and she kicked furiously. “Get paddling. Whatever it is, I doubt its diet is restricted to birds.”

  “It didn’t have any eyes,” said Jess, grunting from her renewed effort. “How did it know the bird was there?”

  “Must have some other method of sensing the environment. Maybe sonic or infrared,” said Gareth.

  “Gareth! For God’s sake just swim!” Jess gritted her teeth and forced her legs to move faster.

  Finally, they escaped the current and steered the raft directly towards the island, but progress was difficult in the rolling waves. Three hundred yards from shore, Barb’s knuckles had turned white from gripping the raft, and her legs trailed behind her, barely moving. Her breathing came in bursts, and she swallowed gulps of water. She called out in a shrill voice. “Pat, I can’t hang on. Arms too tired, hands feel numb.”

  Hickory felt pricks in her legs like pins and needles and shouted to the others, “Keep moving! There’re lice in the water.”

  At that moment, the raft lurched, propelled upward by a breaking wave. Barb’s hands were torn free. She kicked feebly to regain her hold, but the current quickly dragged her away.

  Paddy and Gareth took off after her, with Gareth quickly making up the distance. Barb spluttered and flapped in the water, her eyes wide with fear. “Easy, Barb,” he said. “I’ve got you, I won’t let go.” He swam behind the panicking ranger and cupped her chin in one hand. “Come on, kick, you can make it.”

  A flurry in the water fifty yards away caught Hickory’s eye. A school of small gold and silver fish leaped in and out of the water, heading in Gareth’s and Barb’s direction. “I don’t like the look of that,” she groaned.

  Jess shouted at Gareth to re-double his efforts. “Get a move on, boyo—there’s something in the water!”

  Hickory searched for the engineer and saw him swimming lazily back to the raft. She lost sight of him in the choppy water, then thought she heard him shout.

  Ten minutes later, Gareth’s feet touched the bottom, and he helped Barb struggle through the fast shoaling water. A few of the tiny fish followed them into the shallows and lunged at Barb. Gareth smacked them away with his hand as they nipped at her thighs and calves.

  Hickory and Jess raced up the beach and hauled Barb onto the safety of the sand.

  “Where’s Paddy?” asked Gareth, looking around for the genial engineer.

  Hickory shook her head at Gareth and pulled Barb into a hug. She whispered. “I’m sorry, Barb. Paddy didn’t come back. He almost made it to the raft, but the fish got him. He didn’t stand a chance, poor guy.” She hesitated, frowning over Barb’s shoulder at the others. “They attacked like piranhas.”

  “Noooo! It should have been me,” said Barb, pulling away and sobbing. “First Jack, and now Pat.” She faltered. “He tried to save me and ended up dead. I wasn’t strong enough, it should have been me.” She fell to her knees and bent over, burying her face in her hands.

  Jess reached out to her, kneeling by her side and wrapping her arms around her. “You can’t blame yourself for that. He and Jack were good men. Paddy tried to do the right thing, which was his nature. Everyone knew the risks of a trip like this. There’s always danger. We’re all part of the same team, and we’d all do the same thing if it came to it. Nobody knew anything about those piranha fish before we got here. It’s just bad luck.” She held Barb by the shoulders and smiled at her.

  The girl sniffled, and Hickory covered her shoulders with a long cloth and rubbed her arms.

  “I guess so,” Barb said slowly. “Gareth, I’m sorry, I didn’t thank you for saving my life.” She looked up at him, the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Gareth face turned red, and he shrugged. “That’s okay. I’m really sorry about Paddy.”

  Hickory let out a long shuddering breath and looked around. Less than twenty-four hours into this mission and already I’ve lost two of the team. She set her jaw and gathered herself together. She was the group leader, and they still had a job to do. “Let’s get our stuff off the raft and get dressed. It’s time for us to go. We need to get higher up the mountain before we set up camp. No knowing what we might meet up with when the sun goes down.”

  They scrambled up the rocky hillside for most of the afternoon and into the early evening. It felt cooler here, and the sky was streaked with ribbons of green, blue and orange from the ionic curtain that surrounded Prosperine. When they reached a plateau, Hickory stopped and looked around. “This looks as good a place as any. There’s a stream over there, and plenty of wood for a fire. Let’s get set up.”

  Hickory debated whether to set a sentry. They were all exhausted, but her training kicked in. “Two hours guard duty,” she said. “I’ll take the first shift. You take the next one, Jess, then you, Gareth. Barb…” She paused. The ranger was already snug in her weather pack, fast asleep.

  Next morning, Gareth woke Jess. “I think I’ll take a quick look around before breakfast. I heard a couple of violators howling an hour ago. We don’t want any surprises today,” he said.

  “Be careful,” said Jess. “And don’t be long.”

  “I’m always careful, mother. Make mine black with two.” He grinned at Jess’s scowl, strapped on his sword, and set off.

  Twenty minutes later Gareth hurried back into the camp, breathing rapidly, his face on fire. “Hickory, Jess, you’re not going to believe this. There’s someone camped down on the beach!”

  Hickory rose slowly from the fire and wiped her hands on her trousers. Her heartbeat raced. “What kind of camp? Where?”

  “There’s a lagoon about five miles away, on the other side of the island from where we came ashore. It’s just a lean-to, made from driftwood. You can see it from the top of that ridge.”

  Hickory’s eyes followed Gareth’s pointing finger.

  “That’s not the only thing,” he said looking straight at Jess, his head bobbing up and down. “It’s Vogel. It has to be.”

  “No!” Jess shook her head, disbelievingly.

  “Yes!”

  Hickory held up her hand. “Wait, Gareth, did you see him? You can’t be sure it’s a
Bikashi from that distance, never mind Vogel.”

  Gareth snorted. “Who else on Prosperine could survive a crash in a spaceship, an attack by the Riv-Amok, and the sharks and piranhas in the sea?” He saw Barb blanch and felt immediately contrite. “Sorry, Barb. I didn’t mean to…”

  “Did you see him?” Hickory repeated her question. The Bikashi commander was the most fearsome opponent she’d ever met. He’d been rescued by his own people after the battle for Ezekan city had been won by the government forces. Vogel might easily have killed Gareth and Jess right then, but he had chosen to spare them—a fact that still puzzled her. At the time they’d all assumed Vogel had hightailed it to his home planet of Auriga. She felt a sour taste in her mouth at the thought that the admiral might be right, and he might never have left Prosperine.

  She glanced at the sky. It would be full light in less than half an hour. “Did you see any signs of life?” she asked again.

  Gareth shook his head slowly. “Hard to tell from where I stood. He could be down there right now.” He looked to both Jess and Barb, then Hickory. He blushed vividly as nobody spoke. “Okay, maybe it did look pretty deserted.”

  “We’ll go after breakfast. There’s no sense in risking a broken leg or worse in this half-light.” As he opened his mouth to argue, Hickory said, “It can wait, Gareth.”

  A Meeting of Friends

  Hickory spoke with the admiral from the beach. “It’s an old shelter, sir. Likely from a shipwrecked mariner, but it’s been occupied recently. There are boot prints all around, most leading to the jungle.”

  “Sounds like that’s our alien. How long since he’s been there, do you think?”

  “Only a day or two. We’re just setting up our search parameters, and we’ll be in pursuit.”

  “Good. I’ll place a security perimeter around the island, a mile off the beach. We’ll know if he attempts to leave.” The admiral paused. “I’m sorry to hear about Pat MacArthur. He was a good man—one of the best I’ve worked with. I had the honor of calling him, my friend.”

  “Yes, sir. He was a brave man, too. Will you be contacting his family?”

  “It’s part of the job, Hickory, a sad part. How is Barb coping?”

  “Not the best. It’s hit her pretty hard. First Jack, then Paddy.”

  The admiral pursed his lips. “I’ve had an urgent call from the Agency, and I’ll be gone a few days. Apparently, there’s a problem at the space terminal on Dominion Island. I’ll fly past this afternoon and take Barb with me. You should continue to search for the Sword of Connat-sèra-Haagar. It’s even more important if the Bikashi is free and loose. Have you had any ideas about that?”

  “I have, sir, but they’re built on too many assumptions. I’d rather keep them to myself, at least until I get a little more evidence to support them.”

  “Very well, Commander. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  From the camouflaged hide at the edge of the woods, Vogel watched the landing craft skim over the waves and land on the beach. He’d arrived back from his reconnaissance of the island earlier that morning and almost walked into the Earth people sniffing around his shelter. He had been shocked to see them, but the conversation he heard between the witch and her superior proved enlightening. They were looking for the sword, and they’d found his jet and tracked him to here!

  He let the goldengrass rebound slowly back to vertical and retreated into the woods. The young one had looked straight at him but hadn’t seen him. He cursed his bad luck. Those three had given him a lot of trouble and the boy, especially, was like a hungry tintarra on the trail of its prey. He would never let up—one glimpse would be all he needed. He should have killed him after the battle for Ezekan when he had the chance, but he’d succumbed to a rare moment of pity.

  The boy had suffered much at the hands of his scientists, and he’d thought to spare him. And then the foolhardy youngster had taken the opportunity to throw his dagger at him! He snorted. He wouldn’t be so generous the next time.

  Vogel could feel the sword urging him to combat, but there were too many of them to be sure of victory. His proboscis twitched, and he eyed the landing craft greedily. The Bikashi needed to get back to Ezekan.

  The human had said he would fly the shuttle to the space station on Dominion Island and take a bubble-craft to the IA’s orbital platform. Could he climb aboard undetected, hitch a ride, find his way to the mainland, maybe even discover a way off this forsaken planet?

  He felt something prod at his consciousness. The sword belongs here. He pushed the thought away. His first priority was to get off this island, to get away from the Scarf. He watched the humans trek across the sand towards the beach shelter.

  The Bikashi trotted through the trees to the blind side of the shuttle. He waited until he felt sure the craft was empty before he climbed inside. The human sleeping in the cargo hold took him by surprise, but it was the handler’s bad luck that he had decided to grab a nap while the admiral and the others were away. Vogel approached silently, reached for his neck and broke it with a snap. He hauled the corpse into the back of the cargo bay and dumped it in a storage chest.

  Fifteen minutes later, the admiral, his pilot, and a female boarded. The IA officer seemed agitated and in a hurry to get to his meeting. He didn’t notice the absence of his crewman.

  It took less than an hour for the shuttle to reach the spaceport at Dominion Island. The pilot parked on the site reserved for small ship arrivals, adjacent to the main terminal. Vogel knew from his interrogation of the Earth boy that the core contained the landing control, quarantine and planet-acclimatization facilities for the Agency. The space elevator that transported personnel to and from the orbiting space station was also here.

  Could he get to orbit and flag down a ship headed for a friendly star system? It seemed a forlorn hope. There would be communications equipment on the space station, but it was highly improbable that a friendly ship would happen to be in the vicinity at the right time.

  When the Earthlings disappeared into the terminal, Vogel crept from his hiding place. He was acutely aware of his alien form. He had managed to go unnoticed for a short time amongst the Avanauri with his features heavily disguised. His natural appearance would cause panic amongst the natives, who would most likely think him a demon. He considered stripping the dead crewman of his uniform, but that would be little better than what he already wore.

  Vogel searched the ship’s lockers and found a variety of formal and casual dress kept on board for the admiral’s use. A long black robe lined with silver, knee-length boots and a wide brimmed hat was the best of the available choices. The clothes were of a style and quality that a wealthy merchant or politician might wear. Not ideal, but they would have to serve.

  Hurriedly, he dressed and threw his old clothes in the chest, covering the dead man. He packed what food he could find and several bottles of water into his shoulder satchel, then cautiously exited the shuttle.

  He glanced about him, scurried across the clearing, and darted into the forest. Every second, he expected to hear the alarm being raised. He looked back from behind a tree, his heart pounding with excitement, but everything remained quiet.

  To reach Avanaux, he had to get to the coast and find a boat. But which way? The spaceport had been built in the highlands, surrounded by dense forest. He crept through the trees encircling the buildings and found a pathway leading downhill. He set a fast pace, darting back into the trees when any stranger came in sight.

  Vogel arrived in the early hours of the morning at a fishing village and crept stealthily to the waterfront. Three naurs were busy loading flying fish onto a boat. He crouched behind a cart and listened to their conversation.

  A heavily muscled naur heaved a full basket onto the deck. “Be quick, Lach,” he said. “The markets will open in a few hours. If we miss the start, the biggest buyers will be gone, and we’ll have to make do with the small farmers.”

  The third of the trio snorted. “Don’t listen to hi
m, Lach. We have time. Jerrik is only worried that someone else will pay coin for his favorite nauri before he gets there.”

  Jerrik laughed. “Cherili is more pleasant to the eye than the whores in the fleshpots of Harbor Town where you two spend your money.”

  Vogel waited until the naurs were ready to set sail. Sliding silently aboard, he hid amongst the baskets of fish destined for the fields of Avanaux, to be used as fertilizer.

  He slipped over the side in the pre-dawn light as the boat moored alongside a jetty in Harbor Town. Pulling his collar up and his hat down, he made sure the sword could not be seen, then pushed his hands deep into his pockets and joined the bustling crowd of peddlers, sailors, shipwrights, merchants, fishermen and foreigners from all parts of the northern continent.

  The Bikashi avoided the direct route to Ezekan, and instead hiked through the hills and orchards that surrounded the capital. He had come this way only once before, plotting rebellion with the Pharlaxian leader Sequana and the Earthman Nolanski.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached his destination—the underground tunnel that led into the Temple of Balor was still passable.

  Vogel rested at the end of the tunnel until he thought the last of the worshipers would have left. He finished off the remains of his store of food, then pushed with his shoulder against the door. It groaned open slowly, and he slipped through the gap. A curtain on the other side hid the entry from curious eyes, and he waited behind this until the temple was empty.

  As he emerged, flickering flames from a great iron fire pit sent his shadow dancing across the carving of the four faces of Balor that formed one wall of the temple. A grotto dedicated to Connat-sèra-Haagar stood against one wall, halfway to the main entrance. Vogel stared at the heroine with her empty sword hand poised above the dead and dying enemy at her feet. He gripped the handle of the sword at his waist. There could be no doubt. This was the weapon that had been cut free of the stone. Quickly, he made his way to a side exit and squeezed through.